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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28807452">Little Bear</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/pseuds/round_robin'>round_robin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Bear School (The Witcher), Family Feels, Frottage, Lambert Does the School of the Bear, M/M, Original Character(s), The Witcher Lore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:20:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,930</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28807452</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/pseuds/round_robin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting to know his brother—his actual brother, not just a brother in arms like Geralt or Eskel—was the sort of thing Lambert never imagined for himself, someone who remembered and missed their mother, who shared something with him other than the bullshit of a Witcher's life. It was... fuck, it was good, it made him feel connected to the world again like he hadn't in so very long. Lambert wasn't used to having good things in his life and now he had more people to trust, more people he knew had his back. For the longest time, all he had was Eskel, Geralt, and maybe Vesemir, but the Bears were solid. They didn't say much and pretended not to like each other, but they offered him a place for winter, that wasn't nothing, not to a Witcher.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwo z Belhaven | Ivo of Belhaven &amp; Lambert, Iwo z Belhaven | Ivo of Belhaven/Junod of Belhaven, Lambert/Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>158</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Notes From The Path, The Witcher - Various Alternate Universes</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Little Bear</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28110249">Thirty-One Days of Decembert</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleatory_fox/pseuds/aleatory_fox">aleatory_fox</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello, I am here again writing things about my OC Witcher, Grayson, School of the Bear. I saw other writers who had Bear OCs and they all seemed to have traditional viking/nordic sounding names, which goes really well with canon, but I always enjoyed the Icelandic naming tradition of adding son or dotir to the end of someone's name... So this is my very self indulgent fic where I show off my backstory skills, and my love for RawrkinJD's amazing headcanon to make Ivo of Belhaven Lambert's actual blood brother. One of her Decembert Lambert fics (Day 14: Walking in the Snow) established that headcanon beautifully, and Day 19: Hibernation, has Lambert visiting the Bear keep. It put so many images in my head and now I automatically see Ivo and Lambert as related (they even look alike, it's great).</p><p>Rawr's fics were an amazing springboard, I share most of their headcanons at this point, because they're all so good and make so much sense. So please enjoy Lambert staying with the Bears for the winter, and finding out a little bit more about Grayson.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I got a question...” Lambert slurred, leaning against Ivo's shoulder, mug hanging from his fingers. It was some weird fucking twist of fate that when visiting his mother's grave, Ivo ran into his actual flesh and blood brother, another Witcher, from the fucking School of the Wolf. Junod liked to say the Continent was small, but fuck, that might be too small.</p><p>And now the Wolf was here, wintering with them, drinking their alcohol. It wasn't all bad. Grayson got tired of looking at the same old faces every year, and Ivo's brother was handsome, stubbled jaw, rugged features, and he warmed Grayson's bed very nicely when the others weren't looking for company. Sure, he was a little loud and overly friendly, but what did you expect from a Wolf? It was shaping up to be a good winter, especially after Lambert shared some of his distilling secrets with them.</p><p>Said secrets were spread across the table in several mugs, and spilled in a few puddles, the potent vodka packing a kick for them all. The mug spilled another drop as Lambert's arm flailed, pointing around the table. “Gerd, Junod, Ivo,” he gave his brother's arm a poke, “and Arna... Arn... the big fucker, went to bed already.” He pressed his forehead into Ivo's bicep and Ivo snorted. Arnaghad's name was a bitch to pronounce when sober, let alone four bottles of vodka deep, they could hardly blame Lambert his memory lapse. Wet, drunk eyes moved slowly to Grayson, his pointed finger following a few long seconds later. “And then you have <em>Grayson</em>. What kind of fucking name is that? The rest of you sound like you got spit out from Skellige, but Grayson... fucking Oxenfurt pansy professor sounding name.”</p><p>The jovial mood as they all snickered and smiled at Lambert's drunkenness disappeared in the blink of an eye, and Grayson dropped his gaze to the table, hands balled into a fist. Ivo shifted, wrapping an arm around his brother and pulling him in tight while the other hand pushed his drink away. “Enough for you, I think.”</p><p>“Oh come on!” Lambert growled, trying to grab for his mug, flailing a bit as Junod moved it to the other end of the table. “It's weird. Where does a name like Grayson come from anyway? Sound... sounds weird.”</p><p>The bench scraped across the floor and Grayson stood, walking out of the hall and up to his room. Lambert watched him go with sleepy, half-lidded eyes. A door slammed upstairs, echoing through the hall. “What did I say?”</p><p>Ivo sighed and brought Lambert in closer. Junod got up and plunked down on Lambert's other side, both of them keeping the drunk Witcher upright. “Not Grayson,” he said. “Not at first. He was Gray's <em>son</em>. Oh fuck it, you won't remember, I'll tell you in the morning.”</p><p>Four strong arms pulled Lambert to his feet and one slid around his hips to keep him steady. “Good night, young Wolf, maybe tomorrow you'll learn to hold your liquor,” Gerd laughed, tipping his own mug towards them.</p><p>Lambert went to answer back, but the next thing he knew, he was in Ivo and Junod's bed, his brother stripping his boots. “Hey,” he grunted, “I thought I was staying with Gray tonight?” That was his plan. He had his own room, but sharing a bed with a Bear was much, much better. He crawled in with Arnaghad for the last few nights, Gerd before that, he hadn't been with Grayson in... well, it had been a while, and the big Bear was the best cuddler, more so than any of the others. It reminded Lambert of Kaer Morhen, or at least the parts of winter there that didn't suck.</p><p>“Yeah, you pissed him off. Try again tomorrow.” Junod was waiting for them, chest gloriously naked save for the layer of hair that covered them all. Ivo climbed into the warm sheets then pulled Lambert in after them, pushing him to the other side of the mattress. “Apologize in the morning,” he grunted before settling into his husband's arms.</p><p>“Apologize for what...” Before Lambert could hear the answer, his eyes closed and he slipped off to sleep.</p>
<hr/><p>Bright light filtered through the windows and Lambert squeezed his eyes shut the second they opened. “Ah, fuck. Ivo!” He rolled over and buried his face in the pillows. “Ivo! What happened?”</p><p>A hand on his shoulder tugged him back over and suddenly there was a mug of water under his nose. “Drink,” Ivo grunted. He was already dressed, thick furs piled on his back along with his swords. “We're headed out for training. Don't think you're up to join us.”</p><p>The thought of heading down the stairs made Lambert's stomach lurch. “You're probably right.”</p><p>“Do you remember last night?” Junod came to stand at Ivo's shoulder, shaking his head as he looked down at Lambert.</p><p>It took a moment for him to wade through his memories, but he nodded, then immediately regretted the movement and finished the water. Thankfully, it calmed his stomach. “Did I piss Grayson off for good?” Was he now looking down a whole winter with the Bear keeping him at arm's length? He probably deserved it, even Lambert knew he was a bastard when he was drunk, but fuck, he hoped he didn't do too much damage.</p><p>“Don't know yet. I'll tell you the story after we get back from training.” Ivo refilled the mug of water from the pitcher on the window sill and they left Lambert to recover from his hang over in peace.</p><p>Lambert finished the water and went back to sleep, the sheets still warm from Ivo and Junod's heavy bodies. His head pounded, distracting him from the spiral of self loathing he wanted to fall into. Getting to know his brother—his actual brother, not just a brother in arms like Geralt or Eskel—was the sort of thing Lambert never imagined for himself, someone who remembered and missed their mother, who shared something with him other than the bullshit of a Witcher's life. It was... fuck, it was good, it made him feel connected to the world again like he hadn't in so very long. Lambert wasn't used to having good things in his life and now he had more people to trust, more people he knew had his back. For the longest time, all he had was Eskel, Geralt, and maybe Vesemir, but the Bears were solid. They didn't say much and pretended not to like each other, but they offered him a place for winter, that wasn't nothing, not to a Witcher.</p><p>And now, he stepped in it by poking at old wounds. He'd spent all his life tip-toeing around trauma, but more often bowling right into it, pulling the scab off and letting it bleed. Geralt and Eskel shrugged him off, called him an asshole when it was warranted, but Grayson... Grayson didn't know to tell Lambert to shut up, and now Lambert stepped into a pit he didn't know was there.</p><p>He woke up feeling a little better, but also worse. Ivo sat on the end of the bed, a hunk of wood in his hands as he whittled away, waiting for Lambert to wake. “How bad did I fuck up?” Lambert grunted, voice a little raw from the potent vodka.</p><p>His eyes on the wood, Ivo shrugged. “Don't know. No one's challenged Gray like that in over a century. Last time was right after he got back from his first year on The Path, almost took another trainee's head off.”</p><p>“Grayson did that?” Soft Grayson? Quiet Grayson? The only Bear in this damn keep who would open his arms for a cuddle at the drop of a hat. Yeah, Lambert was a prickly fuck, but he was used to a certain amount of physical attention in the winter; even Ivo rolled his eyes before snuggling close. Grayson just opened his arms and let Lambert sit across him like an armchair, a fucking <em>warm</em> armchair. He needed his space now and again, just like the rest of them, but was always happy to hold someone else close.</p><p>It took another moment for Lambert to get his mind around that new reality. “Do I have to go crawling to him for the story or will you tell me so I can apologize properly?”</p><p>“Oh, I'll tell you. But...” Yellow eyes flashed up to him, whittling knife suddenly pointed <em>at</em> Lambert. “Flesh and blood brother or no, if you go spreading this around, even to the other Wolves, you'll never set foot in this keep again. Clear?”</p><p>Lambert gulped, but nodded all the same. So far, Ivo had been only open and caring with him as they learned the pieces of family they never thought they'd have. To see those gentle eyes suddenly turn hard and cold, even just for a second, Lambert now completely understood why most Witchers would rather give up a contract than fight a Bear for it. The stories of Bears attacking one another on The Path were mostly exaggerated, but for the first time, Lambert believed it might fucking happen.</p><p>He swallowed, trying to get a little moisture back in his mouth. “Clear. I'm not about to spill secrets.”</p><p>Ivo's shoulders relaxed again and he went back to his whittling. “Good. Didn't think you would, but Grayson... it's complicated, even for a Witcher.</p><p>“Ragnar was almost as old as Arnaghad, but Arnaghad's got a fuck ton of things going for him, so Ragnar was aging like the rest of us. Went gray so early, everyone called him Gray Bear. He was a quiet sort, but a good Witcher, solid. One year, he comes back with a babe under his cloak, a fucking infant too. I can count on one hand how many infants made it up the mountain alive.</p><p>“Small thing too, no one thought he'd survive winter, told Gray Bear not to name him. Why bother if we had to wait until spring to dig a grave? But the kid survived, and Gray Bear stayed a whole two years to take care of him, keep him alive, didn't go back on The Path, nothing. He wanted that baby to survive. Some of the elders started calling him Gray's son, no one wanted to name him and get Gray Bear's hopes up.</p><p>“Gray Bear finally went back out for the year, returned to find the kid with bruises from the fighting in the dorms. He insisted the child stay with him. At first, the elders believed something untoward might be going on, but some got like that, protective of cubs before they were forced to learn on their own. Every winter, it was the same thing, Gray's son stayed in the dorm during the year, fought with the other boys—got picked on for being the smallest—but as soon as Gray Bear got home, he took him out of the dorms and spent the winter taking care of him, mentoring, training, teaching him secrets the other trainees didn't get.”</p><p>The knife was still now, whatever Ivo was carving clearly wasn't his focus anymore. He frowned down at the wooden bear starting to take shape in his hands. “Gray Bear died, The Path took him the year after he got to see Grayson with his eyes. After he got his medallion, we asked if Grayson wanted a new name... he said he'd always be Gray Bear's son, and that was the only name that mattered to him. Hasn't talked about the old Bear since.”</p><p>“Shit.” Lambert slumped back into the pillows, hand coming up to cover his face. “I didn't... shit.”</p><p>Names, names were a <em>thing</em> among Witchers, Wolf Witchers at least, you were offered a name change during training if you wanted, Lambert didn't fucking care enough to even think about it, he hated his life back then (still did sometimes) and after all, it was just a name, what did that matter if he wasn't even getting a gravestone? How was he so stupid that he didn't think maybe the other schools had similar traditions? The more he learned about other schools, the more similarities he saw; they were all just mutated freaks trying to get around in the world, and now after what he said to Grayson... “Fuck.”</p><p>“There's probably more to it,” Ivo sighed, “but I'm not going to ask Gray about it. I don't suggest you do either. Just let him cool off. Now get the fuck up, your hang over can't be that bad.” Setting aside the whittling, Ivo got up and stripped the covers off the bed, leaving Lambert to shiver.</p><p>He rolled out of bed and scrambled into his clothes, following Ivo down to tend to the few chores the Bears had. There were no repairs to be made, it was mostly sweeping out old rooms, sharpening practice swords, stuff Lambert could do in his sleep, or while his mind was occupied.</p><p>Family, <em>actual</em> family, was a new concept for him, he never imagined he'd have anyone like Ivo, and to think Grayson had something fucking close to family with the Witcher who claimed him. It was... unexpected. Though it was his least favorite chore, Lambert volunteered to shovel snow in the courtyard, to give himself time to think. He was already readjusting his ideas of what it even meant to be a Witcher on a daily basis, and now with Grayson's fucking dead mentor to factor into the equation...</p><p>Grayson didn't show for dinner and Lambert's guilt only deepened, a pang in his chest that hadn't disappeared with his hang over. He fucked up, and just like when he truly fucked up with Geralt or Eskel, he needed to make it right. Yeah, Lambert was a prick, but he wasn't unfeeling. He liked Grayson, liked the way he held Lambert close, beard scratching his neck, warm body covering him completely; he had to learn cuddling from somewhere and now Lambert knew, he got it... or, at least a little of it.</p><p>His eyes continued to dart to the empty seat at the table until Junod groaned. “Don't let it eat at you, we piss each other off a dozen times every winter. It's a wonder this place is still standing.” He nodded towards the other end of the hall, where a cracked wall they'd never explained sat. “Ten years ago, Arnaghad threw me and Gerd into that wall for trying to kill each other over a game of Gwent. It fucking happens around here.”</p><p>While Lambert was happy for the support (at least, that's what he thought it was, he was never really sure when it came to his brother's husband, that was already super odd to begin with) he couldn't shake the feeling that what he'd done was somehow worse. The others never said a word about Grayson's name, never went near it, and yet he bungled in, making a right old mess. Eskel always said his mouth would get him into trouble, usually with said mouth wrapped around his cock... he was getting distracted.</p><p>The next night, Grayson only appeared at dinner, nodding to them all—even Lambert—and grunting before digging in. Lambert didn't dare try to tempt him into conversation, and neither did the others. Grayson didn't stick around for the normal hour of dice or Gwent after supper, just returned to his room.</p><p>The third day was mostly the same, Lambert went to training, but Grayson steered clear of him, partnering with Junod and Gerd the whole time, leaving Lambert to spar with Ivo. By the forth night, he couldn't take it. He stayed in his own bed despite offers from Gerd and Arnaghad to warm theirs (the Bears were a randy lot, just slow and sleepy, they preferred Lambert coming to them than actually pursuing him) but Grayson barely spoke to him, nothing but a grunt at dinner when he asked to pass the bread or some shit.</p><p>“Ivo,” he asked on day five, far too long without another warm body in the bed next to him, but Lambert was good at sulking, current Kaer Morhen champ. “You bastards have a ledger room?”</p><p>Ivo blinked. He was still waking up, arms wrapped around Junod's thick chest, the other Bear stroking down his neck and rumbling, which Lambert now recognized as a happy noise. All Bears made it, usually only when they were having sex or keeping each other warm, it was a private sort of noise, and here they were doing it in front of Lambert... So he was definitely part of the family now, and he wanted to stay that way, he just had to make it up to Grayson.</p><p>“Ledger room?” Ivo finally asked.</p><p>“Yeah, older Witchers used to keep travel ledgers of shit that happened to them during the year.” Vesemir still had an entire book case in the library filled with the old travel ledgers, Jaskier loved to look through it, <em>Notes From The Path</em>, he called them. If Witchers had more in common than they had differences, surely Haern Caduch had something similar.</p><p>This time, it was Junod who answered. “South hall, across from the armory. Gray Bear's should be right on the front shelf. Grayson likes to look at them, thinks we don't know.”</p><p>Lambert tried not to roll his eyes as he waved his thanks. Of course Ivo told Junod the whole thing, how could he expect his brother to keep something from his damn husband? The more he learned about the Bears, the more Lambert saw the tough loner facade fall away. They were just as lonely as the rest of the world, only they leaned into it.</p><p>The door to the ledger room was in good shape. Most things around Haern Caduch were in good shape, it came from abandoning the keep and making the fanatics lose interest, rather than staying and fighting, then living in the ruin for the rest of your life. Seeing the mostly intact halls made Lambert think about Kaer Morhen a lot more than he cared to admit... but those were thoughts for later.</p><p>Most of the ledgers were stacked together in no particular order, some were just a handful of loose notes bound with string, but right at the front, there were a few volumes that looked clean and almost pristine, but still handled; the spines were a little creased where they'd been opened again and again. Taking the ledgers carefully from the shelf, Lambert sat on the floor and flipped through them.</p><p>The hand writing was old, the careful script matching some of the oldest books in Kaer Morhen's library. It took Lambert a second to remember how those old Witchers formed their letters, the fancy curves on everything, making an F look like a P, a D like an E... He got it eventually, it just took a moment to remember back to when he read all the old books during training, studying, learning from the elders just as important as knowing how to wield a sword.</p><p>It wasn't until the third ledger that he found what he was looking for—<em>bringing my first cub back with me, first time for everything...</em></p><p>Lambert put the other books back and devoured the one in his hands, reading the words written so long ago by Grayson's father.</p><p>
  <em>Ragnar, Autumn</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Law of Surprise is a fickle fucking thing. Last time it got me a horse, this time it got me a child. Tiny little thing too, orphan passed around the village from one nursing mother to the next. The mayor's wife had him when I came for payment. No one even thought to name him, thought he'd die in a week. He's such little thing, I can fit him in one hand almost. Two hundred fucking years and I'm bringing my first cub back with me, first time for everything I suppose. He's a fighter, strongest grip I've ever felt, eyes so blue, like the sky over the mountain on a clear morning.</em>
</p><p>Most travel ledgers stopped as soon as the Witcher returned to their keep, but there was one final page. Lambert flipped to it carefully, trying not to damage the old paper.</p><p>
  <em>Ragnar, beginning of winter</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fuck, didn't think he'd make it up the mountain. But here we both are. Cub's a fighter, I know it in my bones.</em>
</p><p>Lambert opened the next ledger, flipping past the information from The Path, normal stuff, <em>killed three drowners, mayor refused to pay, never going back to River-Ridge</em>... only stopping when he got to the last entry, when Gray Bear—Ragnar—first came home.</p><p>
  <em>Ragnar, beginning of winter</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Soon as I get in, Little Bear runs to me. Fucking cubs gave him a black eye. Keeping him with me this season, I don't fucking care what Arnaghad thinks.</em>
</p><p>There were more entries, always short, just at the beginning of winter as Gray Bear settled down from The Path into life at Haern Caduch. They had to be notes taken before his hibernation, Lambert had seen that phenomenon with his own eyes. Not like his own (very brief) hibernation where he slept for two days straight then got up to eat everything in sight; as soon as they reached the keep, Ivo stayed awake long enough to show Lambert to a room then passed out, only waking every day or so to eat before sleeping again. Five days later he was up and around, but his eyes hadn't lost that heaviness. Bears were slower in winter, Gray Bear was probably no exception. Imagining protecting a child when you felt the need to pass out every night.</p><p>Lambert read all these little notes, smiling at the reunions between Ragnar and Grayson, the cub, almost a full grown Witcher by the last winter, running into Gray Bear's arms every year. There was a father's love written in these pages, Lambert saw it clearly, in every line of, <em>Little Bear met me with another black eye, but he broke the other boy's nose, good cub, just how I showed him</em>, he saw the pride Ragnar had for his adopted son, for that truly was what it seemed like.</p><p>The last entry almost gutted him. Gray Bear died the winter after Grayson got his eyes, and well... it went about as well as Lambert expected.</p><p>
  <em>Ragnar, beginning of winter</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Didn't think I'd miss the blue. He's strong now, bigger than half his group. He'll make a fine Witcher... fuck, I didn't think I'd miss the blue.</em>
</p><p>Placing the ledgers carefully back on the shelf—all except the last one, that one Lambert held tight to his chest—he closed the door and made his way through the halls, towards Grayson's room.</p><p>The last time he entered Grayson's room, it was while the Bear held Lambert in his arms, lifting him like it was nothing. He could hold Lambert with one hand while he opened the door, ready to throw the Wolf onto his bed and have his wicked way with him... But that was before Lambert royally fucked up. He had to make it right, even if Grayson never fucked him again, he had to apologize. His hand absolutely did not shake when he knocked on the door, a sudden lump in his throat.</p><p>There was a grunt from inside and the door opened a crack. Grayson's face was as unreadable as usual, no frown, no smile, just the blank face of a stone, waiting to see what the other person would say. Eyes flicked down to the book in his hands and Grayson's lips pressed together. “What do you want?”</p><p>“I'm sorry,” Lambert breathed. If Geralt was here, he'd fall over in shock. Lambert didn't <em>do</em> apologies, not unless he really fucked up. The: caused more damage to a wall than he fixed that year, destroyed Vesemir's favorite tapestry with an angry Igni, kind of fucked up. But he didn't want to recreate those old mistakes with these new friends (at least, he hoped they were still friends, drinking buddies at least, though Grayson probably never wanted to drink with him again). “Back with my school, I know where everyone's pains are buried, I know where to step. Sometimes I poke at them anyway. But I didn't mean to do that to you. I'm sorry. I, uh...” He held the book out, offering it to Grayson. “I read some more about your mentor. Gray Bear. He seems... he sounds good. Better than most old Wolves I've heard of.”</p><p>After a beat, Grayson took the ledger and tucked it into his chest. He was shirtless, and his thick muscles squished around the corners of the book. “He was, a good—” Grayson bit down on his words, looking from Lambert to the ledger. “I'm proud to carry his name.”</p><p>“As you should be.” Though Lambert was mostly interested in the notes regarding his Child Surprise, he read a few things about Gray Bear's contracts, looked like solid work, his techniques and knowledge was ahead of its time in some ways, he actually had some alchemy formulas drawn into the margins that Lambert wanted to take a look at later. But this wasn't about him, it was about Grayson. “Do you... do you wanna tell me about him? Or I could fuck off, either is fine.”</p><p>Grayson thought for a moment, his thumb rubbing over the back of the ledger before he nodded and stepped back from the door. “Come in.”</p><p>He shut the door behind Lambert and retreated to the bed, sitting with the book still clutched in his hands. Grayson was clearly naked, save for the fur hastily wrapped around his hips when Lambert knocked. Usually, Grayson would meet him with a waggle of his eyebrows and any sort of concealment would drop, their lips meeting... Fuck, <em>usually</em>. What was he talking about? Lambert had only been here for about a month, and already he knew the rhythms of each Bear. And Grayson was always more willing to share his bed, push close—but not too close—and let Lambert take what he needed. Even if he was tired, Grayson let him in. “Hop on, Wolf, you do the work,” where Gerd was just as likely to push Lambert away with a grumbled, “Let me sleep, you randy fuck.”</p><p>Grayson didn't lower the fur, exposing what Lambert lovingly referred to as <em>the great bear</em>. He didn't even invite Lambert on the bed with him, nodding instead to the arm chair in front of the fire. At least it was warm in Grayson's room, warmer in his arms though...</p><p>“I'm sorry,” Lambert said again. “Family, it's new to me. I didn't think Witchers were allowed to have family, and Bears are... Will you tell me? About him?”</p><p>Grayson nodded. Still holding the ledger to his chest, he swiped a hand through his hair, pushing it back into shape, must've been napping. Less than a week ago, Lambert might've joined him, sleeping in those big arms was a special kind of bliss that reminded him of being squished between Geralt and Eskel. Lambert hoped he could earn Grayson's trust back, allow them to be close again.</p><p>“My father was...” he shook his head, “it sounds silly. Bears who take extra care of the children they get through the Law of Surprise, mentor them, have a hand in raising them, they were called mama bears.” A bright blush stained his cheeks above his beard and Lambert had to bite down on his smile. “In the wild, bears—actual bears—are raised by their mothers, male bears will kill cubs if they come across them, only mothers truly protect their young. In the winters, when I stayed with him, Ragnar he... he called me Little Bear, and I called him Mama.”</p><p>Lambert smelled salt on the air just as Grayson ducked his head, hiding the tears welling in his eyes. Everything in him wanted to go over, comfort the Witcher he saw in pain, but that was a Wolf thing, Bears were... he had to be invited. Even with Grayson, especially now that their friendship was teetering on a few harsh words.</p><p>It was silent for a moment, then Grayson cleared his throat, lifting his head again. “Gray Bear taught me more than the other teachers would, told me what life was waiting for me outside these walls. I was scared, but he kept me safe. I wanted to be a good Witcher. For him.”</p><p>“You are a good Witcher,” Lambert whispered. “He'd be proud.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Grayson whispered back. He took a breath and flapped his hand, setting the book down and urging Lambert over. “You're too far away, come here.”</p><p>Lambert was out of the chair like a shot, pushing his face into Grayson's chest, between his thick tits. He sighed into the soft skin as Grayson pulled him into the bed, arms tight around him. They'd work on getting naked later, for the moment, Lambert just needed to hold tight to the massive Witcher. “Mmm...” He squeezed Grayson's back appreciatively, rubbing his face across his chest. “I can't imagine you were ever small.”</p><p>“The smallest. Arnaghad thought I was about to die every winter until I was six.” A nose slid through his hair and Lambert's eyes fluttered closed. The others didn't mind company, only rolled their eyes or huffed when Lambert asked to be close. Grayson seemed to enjoy it just as much as he did, always pulling Lambert in, making sure he was comfortable against his chest before they both drifted off, one large hand spanning the small of his back.</p><p>“Is this... is he why you're so good at cuddling?” Lambert mumbled into his chest.</p><p>There was a low rumble and Grayson nodded. “Yes. Ragnar let me sleep in his bed every winter. He wanted to keep me safe, but pushed me out in the cold for training every morning. I wasn't coddled, love isn't coddling. I knew what was waiting for me on The Path, but I also knew the value of warm arms in the dead of winter. His arms saved me.”</p><p>“Tell me about him?”</p><p>Grayson grunted and pushed Lambert off his chest, pointing across the room. “He kept winter journals as well, I have them in here. Don't want them to get lost in the library. Fetch one for me.” With a nod, Lambert did as asked, sliding from warm arms and walking over to the small shelf by the door. He thought it contained bestiaries, or maybe novels, but they were all stacks of papers, or ledger books with the same swooping hand as the others. “And,” Grayson called. Lambert looked up to watch the Bear recline back on the bed, pushing the fur off his hips. “Take off your clothes.”</p><p>Settling against the headboard, he waited for Lambert to get undressed before lifting the blankets, inviting him in. Snuggled close against his chest, Grayson opened the first book Lambert brought. For the next hour, they went through Gray Bear's journals, looking inside the mind of the Witcher who took an orphaned child and made sure he survived.</p><p><em>They call me old fashioned, </em>the antique script said, <em>but fuck, I remember a time when a Witcher </em><em><b>cared</b></em><em> about the boy he plucked from the world. This is a shit life, no two ways about it, but Little Bear... he'll be a damn fine Witcher. Might make the world a little better in the process. Higel and the others can go rot.</em></p><p>
  <em>Little Bear's first word: mama. Fuck Heigel and Tyson calling me mama bear all the time, but to hear it from Little Bear... I kind of like it.</em>
</p><p>Grayson read his mentor's words—his father's words—until Lambert's eyes were heavy, the deep voice rumbling low and soothing in his ear. He closed the book and set it aside, holding Lambert close and dragging fingers through his hair, breathing in the soft, happy scent of a lover. “'m sorry I'm such an asshole,” Lambert mumbled. Eyes still closed, he blindly pressed kisses across Grayson's chest, stopping to lick a nipple when he found it.</p><p>A low growl of pleasure rumbled up from his chest. “It's alright. Spent my life with assholes. You're better than most.”</p><p>Cupping the back of Lambert's head, Grayson brought their lips together, kissing slowly, sucking Lambert's bottom lip between his teeth before pushing his tongue inside. Lambert couldn't help but moan into the kiss, his hard cock twitching against a strong thigh. “Missed you,” he whispered.</p><p>“Missed you too,” Grayson mumbled back. He rested their foreheads together, sharing Lambert's breath. “Thank you for letting me talk about him. The others... it's not our way. I don't want to make them uncomfortable.”</p><p>Considering Lambert and Ivo bonded over the graves of their parents—mourning their mother, while rejoicing their father's death—he understood the others not wanting to get into Grayson's semi-normal parental feelings. Or, normal by Witcher standards. “Lucky for you, I'm a Wolf, family bullshit is kind of our thing. I'll tell you about Geralt's Child Surprise sometime.”</p><p>“Hmm, I can't wait.” Grayson pulled him in again, holding Lambert tight as they kissed. He felt Lambert's cock against his leg, and Lambert definitely felt Grayson's... but they'd get to that later.</p><p>When the shout of “Food!” rang through the keep, all they'd done was kiss, pulling back every once in a while to rub their noses together, licking up one cheek or over a sweaty neck. It had only been a week, but Lambert already missed being in the big Bear's arms, he hoped he could stay there for the rest of winter.</p><p>They got dressed, Grayson handing him every piece of clothing, even turning him to “help” Lambert get his shirt on, any excuse to touch. Lambert noticed Grayson was the most tactile Bear, always ready with a hug to keep him warm after coming in from shoveling snow, sitting so close at the dinner table, he felt the heat of him radiating through the layers of furs. He knew Grayson was like that, and now he knew why. It was easy to be close when someone taught you how.</p><p>Lambert wrapped his arm around Grayson's thick bicep as they walked down to the hall, rubbing his nose through the soft fur over his shoulders. When they entered the hall, no one said a word. Arnaghad shook his head, but Ivo smiled, clearly pleased his brother had worked it out. Gerd looked up from his plate long enough to huff, a sound Lambert knew meant, <em>not my bed tonight then, good, need a rest...</em></p><p>As usual, there was far too much food, more than they even ate at Kaer Morhen. But the Bears devoured it all, bringing out drinks and dice after. Grayson stayed by Lambert's side all night, their thighs pressed together on the bench; every once in a while, he dropped an arm behind Lambert to squeeze him, before going back to his food. When the others looked keen to play games for an hour before taking up their own, alone activities for the night, that wide hand settled over Lambert's thigh. “Come upstairs with me?” he whispered.</p><p>Lambert had never agreed to anything so fast in his life. This time, when Grayson reached down to wrap his arms around Lambert's hips, he lifted, pulling the Wolf off the floor and urging him to wrap his arms and legs around Grayson. Rubbing their cheeks together, Grayson squeezed Lambert's ass as he supported him. “Missed having you close,” he rumbled, so low, no one else in the hall would hear.</p><p>While Lambert loved being carried around—it wasn't often that he felt small, even with Eskel, there wasn't that much of a height difference, but most of the Bears made him feel like a fucking dwarf in the best way—he couldn't just take that. Nipping at Grayson's neck, he made himself a nuisance all the way up the stairs, rolling his hips, pushing his cock into Grayson's stomach, tilting his head back to expose his throat. A soft growl was his only warning, a promise for later, as soon as they reached the bed, Lambert was going to pay for his teasing.</p><p>The door thunked closed and Grayson threw Lambert onto the bed, blanketing over him. Hard teeth and smooth beard brushed his neck, the contrast making him shiver despite the warm body absolutely covering him. Hands pawed at him, there was a rip of fabric, but Lambert so didn't care, it had been almost a fortnight since he had Grayson inside of him, far too long if you asked him.</p><p>“Do you know,” Grayson grumbled, done shredding Lambert's clothes, now moving on to his own, “how much I missed you warming my bed?”</p><p>“I'm sorry I was an ass.” They talked about it already, spent all damn day together, but Lambert knew when he was a prick. He was getting better at owning up to it.</p><p>Grayson shook his head, ducking down and sucking Lambert's bottom lip between his, nipping at the too plush flesh. Ivo's lips were the same, and the nights he and Junod invited Grayson to their bed were sweet, he spent a lot of time worshiping those lips, and now he'd do the same for Lambert. “It's in the past. We don't need to linger. Can I fuck you? I've missed that tight body of yours.”</p><p>“Shit, yes. <em>Please</em>.” Tangling his fingers in Grayson's hair, Lambert got a thrill from messing up the well sculpted locks. In winter, he didn't bother slicking his hair back, letting it get fluffy, Grayson still maintained his every morning. Lambert watched him once as he smoothed bed hair away with careful brush strokes before pushing it into the perfect shape with a hand full of wax.</p><p>“Why do you do that?” Lambert remembered asking, still tucked into Grayson's bed under the warm furs, enjoying the show of the Bear striding around his room, checking himself in the fucking beautiful mirror he somehow got up the mountain without a single crack. “It's winter. You lot are all about rest. Doing your hair every morning doesn't feel very restful.”</p><p>Grayson didn't answer for a moment, finishing the final touches that swooped his hair back into a neat pompadour, before turning his attention to the bed. Despite the chill in the air, he stood naked, cock swinging and slowly filling. Resting a hand at the base, he stroked himself, eyes not leaving Lambert. “All year on The Path, I have blood in my hair, guts, dirt, sweat. Here, I can be clean, I can be...” his voice dropped, “I can be beautiful. Don't you want me to look good for you?”</p><p>Lambert rolled over, reaching out to try and grab, pull Grayson closer. The Bear obliged, walking towards the bed and hissing softly when Lambert's lips wrapped around his cock, the hair there also very well trimmed and groomed. “You should come to Kaer Morhen,” Lambert mumbled between licks. “Hot springs, you'll never feel cleaner.”</p><p>“Hmm, might take you up on that.” Grayson stood at the edge of his own bed and let Lambert continue his good morning blow job.</p><p>Now, Lambert looked again, smiling as he mussed the carefully combed hair, knowing this late at night, Grayson would let him. The Bear was beautiful, and Lambert wanted nothing more than to smudge that beauty, wreck him, make him look truly <em>divine</em>.</p><p>They kissed until their lips were ruby red, and then just a little bit more, cocks grinding together, leaking against each other. “Gray, please,” Lambert begged, “how do you want me?”</p><p>“Roll over.” Lambert was on his stomach in no time flat, lifting his hips, offering his ass to old, scarred fingers. Grayson shook his head as he pulled the tin of slick from the bedside drawer. “Eager Wolf.”</p><p>“Slow Bear,” Lambert growled back. A sharp slap across his ass made him gasp. “Again.” Grayson did it again, the skin singing, probably pinking up as blood rushed to the surface.</p><p>Lips brushed the now hot skin, and a warm tongue took a moment to soothe away the sting. Slick fingers brushed Lambert's hole as Grayson sucked a love bite into one of his cheeks, and he tried to rut into the sheets, take care of the throbbing need between his legs. “Ah, ah—” a hand the size of a dinner plate grabbed his hip, stilling him, “I get to do that.”</p><p>Lambert whined, but stopped moving, letting Grayson drive their pleasure. Confident the Wolf would stay where he put him, Grayson worked another finger in his hole. “So tight, always so tight. You're going to spoil me.”</p><p>“That's the plan, uh, f-fuck...” Biting down on his tongue, Lambert absolutely did not whimper when a third finger started pressing into his hole. Teasing the rim at first, getting to know his body again after too many days apart. “That's enough. Please, I want you to fuck me.”</p><p>Grayson said nothing and took another moment with Lambert's ass, watching his fingers dip in and out of the now loose muscle. Finally, he pulled back, slicking his cock before laying across Lambert's back, blanketing over him completely. Knees planted between Lambert's spread legs, one hand on the bed, the other on his cock, Grayson pushed in slow, making the Wolf gasp and moan. Spreading his legs, he pushed Lambert's legs wide, he couldn't get any leverage, helpless to lay there and take the pleasure Grayson gave him.</p><p>“Alright?” he whispered as he rubbed his nose along the shell of Lambert's ear.</p><p>Lambert had had Grayson on top of him before, and Gerd, and fucking Arnaghad, the Bears were a slow sort and liked their easy positions, nothing too fancy or too athletic. He thought he'd find it claustrophobic at first, all that muscle and thick, plush limbs on top of him, pinning him to the bed, but he actually fucking loved it. He wasn't crushed and pushed around, rather covered and protected, each Bear laying over him like a shelter from the storm.</p><p>He nodded. “Yeah, more than alright. Get to it, Gray, before I find someone else to fuck me.”</p><p>Pressed together as they were, a rumbling chuckle vibrated from Grayson's chest, through his. “Cheeky.” With a quick kiss to his cheek, Grayson pulled his hips back, snapping forward again.</p><p>Laying as they were, gravity did most of the work, and Lambert knew first hand, a Bear could fuck for <em>hours</em> in this position. His feet flailing a little as he instinctively tried to find leverage, it took a moment for him to relax fully into it, but once he did, he melted into the bed, body going limp. “Mmm, love feeling all of you,” he mumbled into the pillows.</p><p>“All for you,” Grayson whispered back. Lips mostly covered in beard brushed down Lambert's neck, tickling a little, but in the best way. Grayson pulled his hips back again, thrusting in so deep, he felt it in his chest. Reaching up, Grayson tangled their fingers together, gripping tight as his hips sped up.</p><p>He didn't have a free hand to stroke his cock, but it didn't matter, hips thrusting and rolling into the bed, there was more than enough stimulation to push Lambert to the edge. “Are you, uh, are you close?” he panted.</p><p>There was that rumbling chuckle again. “No where near. Need me to stop?”</p><p>“No, keep going. Keep going, fuck never stop...” Lambert's words trailed off into a high pitched wail of completion, his cock twitching, spraying all over the sheets under them. And Grayson kept going, his rhythm never wavering. Shocks of over stimulation spiraled through Lambert, coaxing one last gush from him as he twitched and shook, but Grayson's heavy body kept him tethered to the world.</p><p>He didn't even go soft, pinned between Grayson's cushy, yet oh so strong body and the bed, Lambert was still hard, rocketing towards his second orgasm. Teeth bit at the back of his neck, and a few soft growls met his ears. “Keep going,” he panted. “Keep going.”</p><p>Grayson pushed Lambert to a second, then a third peak, his body absolutely wrung out and exhausted. The Bear wasn't exactly awake either, his thrusts slowed a little, luxuriating in each roll as Lambert's over sensitive body clenched around him. “Gray... wanna feel you come.”</p><p>“Almost there.”</p><p>“What can I do? What'll help?”</p><p>“Nothing.” Lips pressed against the back of his neck again, and a tongue to lick up the trail of sweat there. “You're already doing it, you're perfect. Want my come in you?”</p><p>“Yes, fuck yes.”</p><p>And with one last growl, Grayson thrust in <em>hard</em>, hips twitching against Lambert's ass. He could feel the ropes of spend pumping inside of him, filling him with Grayson's scent, making up for lost time. If Lambert had his way, and if Grayson wanted, he'd spend the rest of the winter in the Bear's bed, snuggled as close as he wanted, smelling so very taken.</p><p>He nearly sobbed when Gray pulled out, there was no way around it. A wide hand gently brushed over his ass. “Too much? I was... making up for lost time.”</p><p>Lambert shook his head, a true feat with how absolutely boneless he felt. “You're never too much for me.”</p><p>He drifted in and out of consciousness as Grayson moved around the room, a wet cloth swiping over his skin, cleaning him up. When Lambert opened his eyes again, the furs covered in his spend had been replaced and Grayson was tucking them into bed. “Can I stay the night?” he whispered.</p><p>“Of course.” Strong arms wrapped around him and settled his ear right over one thick tit, a steady heart beautiful under layers of muscle and fat. “Don't expect a performance like that every night. You're still fucking <em>exhausting</em>.”</p><p>“Mmm, so they tell me.” Lambert closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.</p><p>Grayson didn't expect that they were done for the night, and shortly before dawn, Lambert woke, hard cock nudging his hip. Grayson rolled onto his back and pulled Lambert up on his chest, letting him fuck his chest and exhaust himself again. His cooed and moaned as his hips jerked, cock falling into the valley on Grayson's chest like it belonged there. When his chest hair was covered in come, Lambert passed out again and Grayson rolled his eyes. “Wolves,” he grumbled.</p><p>For the rest of winter, Lambert stayed in Grayson's bed. He fucked the others, moving between Gerd, Arnaghad, and back to Ivo and Junod's room for a night of cards when the rest of the keep begged them to occupy him, “I can't fuck him again,” Gerd sighed. “My cock will fall off.”</p><p>But no matter where he started the night, Lambert always crawled into Grayson's bed at the end of it, smiling as big arms used to cuddling encircled him. “Thank you,” he whispered, sometimes slurring the words if he'd had too much to drink that night or decided to suck on the nearest piece of Grayson he could get his lips around. The Bear put up with all of it, holding Lambert close. And no matter what time he joined Grayson in bed, he was always met with open arms and that low, rumbling noise, the sound of pleasure, happiness. Grayson was happy to see Lambert. And you know what? Lambert was happy too.</p>
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